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Passions in Poetry

Alan

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Huan Yi
Member Ascendant
since 10-12-2004
Posts 6334
Waukegan


0 posted 12-05-2004 01:28 PM       View Profile for Huan Yi   Email Huan Yi   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for Huan Yi



How light glistens
on the water

Wooden houses
with paper walls
small rock gardens
and slate gray roofs

Grocery stores
Their open stalls
Mama Sans at local bars
Small white dogs
and cobbled roads

Paddy fields
Koto tunes
Summer hills
The autumn moon...

I will miss you
when I’m dead


  

© Copyright 2004 John Pawlik - All Rights Reserved
serenity blaze
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since 02-02-2000
Posts 28839


1 posted 12-05-2004 06:53 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

hmmm.

The images are lovely and quite at odds with the closing, so I confess I can't quite claim to understand this on an intellectual level, but at the same time, something on an emotional level sort of nodded at the apparent irony.

(not even sure if irony is the right word)

Perhaps you could enlighten me a bit regarding this one? I do enjoy your explanations, even when they are beyond me.

GG
Member Elite
since 12-03-2002
Posts 3615
Lost in thought


2 posted 12-05-2004 08:48 PM       View Profile for GG   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GG

Think I'll agree with Ser on this one.
It definitely pinched a nerve emotionally...
left with an underserved untimely
stealing of what 'should have been.'
Yet confused by what the real meaning,
or inspiration, might have veen.

Guess I'm not always required to know.
Even confused, I like this poem.

Always, Alyssa

He was a man of sorrows
...I am a girl of tears.

Huan Yi
Member Ascendant
since 10-12-2004
Posts 6334
Waukegan


3 posted 12-05-2004 11:40 PM       View Profile for Huan Yi   Email Huan Yi   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Huan Yi

serenity blaze/ Alyssa,

This particular thing is a response to Alan Booth
as I met and walked with him in his “Looking for the Lost”
(ISBN: 1568361483).  To quote one of the reader reviewers
at Amazon:  

“Looking for the Lost is an oddity. A book that I remember few details of, yet I remember with great vividness that I was moved by a intangible sadness that was always just over the next horizon of his journeys. Alan Booth was a writer of invincible good humor. Too much so to speak of his own impending death. . .  But the alert reader is constantly aware of an impending passing of life, seemingly inseparable from the passing of beauty in this country.”

Until the end he never speaks of his illness, (a cancer that took him at 48
which he eventually alludes to), yet in and between the lines there is a
sense of leave taking.  It’s a very quiet, almost ineffable, experience yet
one which I, at least, through re-reading have felt the urge to more than once.
In the poem  “Silence” Edgar Lee Masters asks:

“For the depths,
Of what use is language?”

Alan seems to have known that to attempt to speak directly is to
then use words as can only, at best, touch and more often distract
and/or detract from and thereby diminish, if not deny, the experience of
those depths.  So instead you walk with him and within his words feel
his being , his affection for life, and his goodbye.


If my thing causes some interest, then I’m pleased.

John

P.S.

  
http://www.daypoems.net/poems/1495.html

passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 08-26-99
Posts 46297
displaced


4 posted 12-11-2004 08:30 AM       View Profile for passing shadows   Email passing shadows   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for passing shadows

love that ending!

yes!
Drauntz
Member Elite
since 03-16-2007
Posts 2907
Los Angeles California


5 posted 04-28-2007 08:48 PM       View Profile for Drauntz   Email Drauntz   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Drauntz

nice.****
 
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